


Yearning

by txilar



Series: Yearning [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Community: smut_fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txilar/pseuds/txilar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under threat of attack from a hostile enemy, Savien's temple finds itself under military control. Despite the intrusion, he is drawn to General Etzgerdin--and the General can't seem to keep his hands off Savien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [empty-room](http://empty-room.livejournal.com/) for the fantasy round of [smut_fest](http://community.livejournal.com/smut_fest).
> 
> Send end for content warning.

  
_And by the yearning in my veins I know_  
Swinburne

"Soldiers!"

Savien had just come in from the garden when Surae burst into the kitchen.

"There are soldiers--the gate--a general--his sword--" he broke off panting and Savien set the herbs down and came to the door.

"Take a breath. In through your nose. Calm down. What kind of soldiers, did they say?"

"Tilban. Want to see--Father. Demanded actually." Slowly Surae was calming.

Savien sighed in relief. "Thank God it isn't Kor, though I doubt they'd ask permission. I'll go meet with him, it's just one. You finish the herbs."

Surae nodded and Savien made his way to the gates. Though they were certainly better than the Kor, that the Tilban officers were asking permission to see the Father was curious.

Savien was perplexed. The countryside had been relatively peaceful for over a decade. The Tilban King had vowed that as long as the Avyeni remained neutral, provided no support to the Kor, and allowed Tilban forces in their cities, they would be left alone, protected by the Empire, but free from it. Though he heard of soldiers occasionally going through towns nearer to Kor lands, it had been decades since Tilban forces came near the temple.

He sent another acolyte ahead of him to let the General in, unarmed, and let him know someone would meet him in the Grand Hall. He hoped it was a peaceful meeting and not an announcement that Tilban forces were taking over. Or worse, that they were told they'd have to abandon the temple. The Kor were known to be particularly cruel in their treatment of Avyeni believers.

Rounding the corner, Savien saw the General in the furthest corner of the room. His hands were joined at his back and he was looking at the frescoes on the walls. The Grand Hall wasn't so grand as its name; the room was barely thirty feet by twenty, but the frescoes that covered the wall from floor to twenty-seven foot ceiling more than made up for the lack of physical grandeur. A large round window on the eastern wall let in a brilliant blaze of midday sun.

As quiet as Savien's slippered approach through the doorway was, the General turned the minute he came through.

Savien was taken aback. He'd expected an older man for a General. This man didn't appear to be much older than Savien. Suddenly, he had a good idea just what was going on. A newly appointed officer here to throw his weight around.

The General eyed him quietly as he approached. Savien had never met with military before, and certainly never on the Father's behalf. Father was giving him far too much authority.

And the gods were giving him too much temptation. The soldier was handsome. Savien felt his pulse quicken. Perhaps he was simply a disillusioned soldier seeking refuge? It had happened before.

The Avyeni were peaceful people, and a Tilban protectorate, but their military knew better than to intrude on sacred lands. Someone should have explained that to this General, if that's what he was.

Whatever rank, the man was tall and typically Tilban. His hair and skin were a matching warm honeyed tone, making his pale eyes seem even more piercing and direct. He was well dressed; a rich wool cape decorated with golden threads and emblems glittered in the light. His tunic was a fine silky green brocade. Even the dark beard coming in--likely from weeks spent travelling and not part of his regular look--gave him an air of power. Overall, he was captivating and emanated authority.

That was, to Savien's eye, he played his part well. Savien felt shabby in his simple tunic and trousers. He was clean, well tended, and had little need for finery, but it highlighted their difference in status and made him feel an immediate deference to the man, General or not.

And he could not deny a thin thrill of irrational fear. He didn't remember the attack that had taken his parents, but his dreams were often set in a burning village filled with masked soldiers chasing him. Since then, every soldier he saw filled him with that sense of something giving chase after him.

Savien nodded respectfully as he approached and waited for an introduction.

"I'm here to see the your Head Priest. If you are he, forgive me, but you seem rather young for the position." His voice was surprisingly soft, and low, giving him a warm, rumbling tone. "You do speak Tilban, don't you?" he added as an afterthought.

Savien smiled. "Of course I do. And might I say, you seem rather young for a General. What need do you have for the Father? He's a busy man, and the affairs of soldiers are not his concern."

It was amazing that eyes so warm could turn so cold. The General's gaze darkened and he stared at Savien with nearly a glare. His mouth twitched before turning into a cruel sneer.

"I was given this honour a week ago when my uncle died on the battlefield. By order of the Tilban king, I am here to defend Tilban borders from Korvesek invaders and _as it please me_ , protect your lands, temple, and people from same."

Savien opened his mouth to apologise, but the General interrupted.

"Go fetch your priest before I send my men to the task."

Savien ducked his head, bowing as graciously as he could. "Of course sir, I apologise. Right away."

He left the room before he even finished speaking. Now he understood Surae's hysterical manner. He found Father Lussoye and briefed him quickly, hoping he would go to meet the man and Savien would never have to see him again. But there was no such luck.

"The rumours of Kor getting closer are true. Bring the General to my office, Savien," said Lussoye. He wandered off to those very rooms leaving Savien alone. He went to the Grand Room and directed the General to follow him without a word. He kept his head down and made a point not to look at the man.

He realised as he guided the General through the labyrinthine halls that he didn't know the General's name and couldn't properly announce him. At this point, he didn't even want to speak to him after his earlier gaffe. Hopefully Father Lussoye would want to speak to the General alone.

"Father Lussoye, I present to you the Tilban General." His voice didn't shake and he bowed properly. He felt the body heat of the General as he moved by and rose. A quick glance at Father Lussoye confirmed his fears. Lussoye waved him in. He turned to slide the large door shut and grimaced before relaxing his expression. Trying not to project his discomfort, Savien took his place at Father Lussoye's side, keeping his head respectfully bowed.

They began speaking and Savien tried his hardest to concentrate as they discussed the ongoing war with the Korvesek, Tilban politics, and the viability of the villages surrounding the temple. Every once in a while he glimpsed up and caught the General's eye. He didn't mean to of course, but he did and every time found the General's gaze glued to his own. He'd stare back mesmerised before looking down to his feet, heart racing, nerves crackling with sudden energy.

It was that nameless fear, the terrible panic that woke him at night and haunted his dreams. He felt the need to run.

Father Lussoye said his name and Savien looked up, straightening. They were both staring at him expectantly. He could feel his face burning in embarrassment as he tried to recollect what they'd said.

"Savien has been my assistant for eight years now, General Etzgerdin. I trust his ears to hear the subtleties of earthly life that I have forgotten." Lussoye smiled and reached out to grasp Savien's hand. "I adopted him, so I am his father both spiritually and practically."

The General didn't look impressed or even moved. He leaned against the large desk, chin resting on his fist as he took assessed Savien. "Your assistant should be taught the importance of respecting authority when it comes to protect him." General Etzgerdin's gaze tore into Savien's and it was as though he could stare into Savien's soul. "Fear of soldiers is a dangerous fear, even for a man of god."

"Savien has sound reasons for his fears, General, and, I assure you, a healthy respect for your authority. Now. As our temple is not harmed, nor our people, we extend and respect your authority to command the temple. Our halls are open for your wounded men and your medics. Our medics will assist as they can. I trust your men will respect that ours is a holy temple? It is not like your Tilban halls of... carnal worship."

General Etzgerdin gave Savien a faint smile and returned his attention to Father Lussoye. "My men will respect your temple and your beliefs. They are not so unlike our own, our places of worship not withstanding. If tales give men comfort so be it." He shrugged lightly. "My men will stay outside the temple gates."

Father Lussoye leaned forward and Savien could practically see his interest. "What gives you comfort, my son? I understand your uncle passed his helmet to you. I grieve for your loss, and hope you attend your soul's needs."

The General stared at Father Lussoye for a moment. Lussoye could charm raging bears as well as raging rivers, but Savien wasn't so sure he could get through to this one. The General nodded, then glanced at Savien. His expression turned at once sly and almost sensual. Savien couldn't help but feel taunted at his reply.

"My needs are met in temples of flesh, and washed away by the finest wines. One heals the body, the other my mind." His lips--Savien tried not to see them as lush and ripe--curved into a leering smile. "If your temple can provide those services, all the better. It will save my men travel time."

Lussoye shook his head, but he was smiling. "I'm afraid not, General. But do remember the soul needs comfort as well. Even a military soul. You will understand this one day." Lussoye leaned back in his chair, gesturing at Savien.

"As I'm sure you understand, the day to day minutiae is not my concern. Until something directly threatens my temple or my people, I trust Savien to handle affairs." Father Lussoye turned to Savien, still grasping his hand. He squeezed Savien's hand. "You will follow the General's orders now, Savien, save for the lunar holy days, do you understand?" Lussoye was looking at him intently, almost as if he were trying to read his mind, something Savien knew Lussoye was not very good at.

Nervously, he glanced at General Etzgerdin before answering. There was a strange note to the question and even the General seemed quizzical as he watched them.

"Yes sir, I understand."

Father Lussoye looked at him for a moment, then nodded, and held his hand up, the palm facing Savien. He drew a careful circle in the air, closing his eyes as he murmured to himself.

A typical blessing ended there, but Father whispered to himself quickly then opened his eyes before slashing an 'X' in the air with both hands. He took a deep breath and smiled at Savien.

"Be blessed, my son." Father patted Savien's arm, then turned to leave, giving a polite bow to General Etzgerdin before opening the door and walking out.

Savien stared after him, feeling twin spikes of dread and thrill writhing in his belly.

"What the hell was that?"

"A blessing," Savien said absently. "For protection and faith." It was usually a blessing given when a young man left home. A blessing to protect his soul, and strengthen his faith in himself.

"Look at me."

Savien turned to look at the General.

"Repeat after me. I swear my allegiance to the Tilban king and forces," he began.

"But I don't--all right." He repeated the line and gave a slight bow.

"That it does not go against my allegiance to the Tilban throne, I swear my allegiance to General Daedrich Badrin Oering don Barishka Etzgerdin."

Savien repeated that line as well, eyes widening at the long name. Would there be more?

"Until such time as I am released from my duty, I will fulfil all orders given freely and hastily. Under threat of execution, I swear I will not commit treason against the Tilban throne."

Savien kept repeating, stuttering slightly over the word 'execution.'

"Excellent." The General tapped both of Savien's shoulders lightly with his fist. "Your monks took my sword," he said with a slight shrug. "You are now a servant of the Tilban throne. You report to me."

Savien nodded. "Yes, General."

Suddenly, Daedrich smiled. "Call me Daedrich. Your first order is to find me quarters that are easily accessible to the camp. A simple room will suffice. Yours should be nearby as you are my direct liaison. I will need your assistance in locating the camp, but after that you are free for the remainder of the day. Go to your prayers or whatever it is you do." He paused and Savien tried to look attentive.

"I will try to honour your spiritual needs, but there will times that I cannot. My order trumps everything. For my men, dereliction of duty is rare. It is punished by the lash. You will not suffer as a trained soldier would, but you will suffer the indignity should you choose to contravene my orders. Is that understood?"

Savien swallowed deeply, trying not to let his unease show. "Yes, sir."

"Do you know anything of fighting? War?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Let us begin, Savien."

Suddenly, the General--Daedrich--was in high spirits. Savien found his own spirits suddenly bereft of his usual joy. Today had started with such peace and beauty.

Where had it gone?

\---

"The Kor are getting bolder. It is possible they know we are here. People talk and our presence has not gone unnoticed."

Savien nodded, trying to look attentive. These daily meetings with the General were getting to be too much. For one, it was mostly military talk that he did not understand and did not want to. For another, he was surrounded by soldiers and even knowing they were Tilban did nothing to ease his anxiety.

It made him tremble when he spoke and made him terribly self aware.

The General was either completely oblivious, didn't care, or, and Savien thought this most likely, felt it necessary. After their first introduction, he seemed determined not to let Savien forget he was a soldier first and foremost. Though Savien felt it was a bit overdone. How would he forget such a thing when the General walked around armed to the teeth?

And he walked with a soldier's aggression. He reminded Savien of a wild cat he'd seen high in the mountains on a retreat. He'd been alone at a sacred spot in search of guidance. At the time he'd been certain that dedicating his life to the gods was what he wanted. What they wanted. The trip put that thought to rest. Sometimes he wondered if the cat had been real, or perhaps, a messenger.

It was like something out of a fairly tale, huge, menacing, and powerful. Daedrich wasn't exactly huge, but the way he walked around reminded Savien of the stalking cat. The cat had circled Savien's small camp for a few evenings before finally approaching, wary of the fire. He had only dried meats to eat, but he shared them.

The fourth night the cat dropped a rabbit at Savien's feet. He wasn't really prepared to skin, spit, and cook a rabbit, but he did, sharing the leavings for the cat. As he slept, the cat had settled behind his back, and Savien was as grateful for the warmth as he was the companionship. It had sensed when Savien was leaving and walked beside him, leaning in gracefully and letting Savien's hand brush his forehead.

They parted ways and Savien knew without a doubt he could not devote his life to the gods as a monk. Even if he never left the temple again, it simply wasn't his calling.

"Savien? Will that be a problem?"

Savien looked up and met Daedrich's gaze. Even in school he'd been chastised for not paying attention. He opened his mouth to speak, but he had no idea what they'd been discussing.

Daedrich smirked at his blank expression.

"We'll assume not," he said, his smouldering gaze still on Savien. "That will be all for now," he said, turning back to the soldiers. "You're dismissed until night call. Ingrald, you and Savien stay."

Savien bit his lip and nodded, though Daedrich had already looked away. Ingrald caught his nod, but he too looked away. Pointedly. Savien knew the man did not like him. He didn't call him by name, only referring to him as 'monk,' his voice full of disdain. He wondered why Daedrich wanted the two of them. Ingrald was a lieutenant or something. Hopefully he wouldn't turn Savien over to him.

Once the soldiers left, Daedrich moved to sit nearer to Savien, waving Ingrald over.

"Someone from Oreszhelae reported cattle missing, and there are rumours a young woman was kidnapped. I'm going to send a small group out to keep watch. They are probably testing the waters, seeing how we'll respond. Oreszhelae is the easternmost village, isn't it?" He looked to Savien for confirmation and continued at his nod.

"Ingrald I want you to lead them. You know the village well enough for a map, Savien?"

"Yes."

"Good. Join me for dinner when you've finished." He rose and left them alone.

Ingrald watched Daedrich leave, then turned to to Savien. "You must be careful, monk. He has little use for gods and their believers. And he has plenty to keep him occupied at court."

"And I have little use for soldiers, sir, so please, let us go through this quickly." Ingrald didn't intimidate him the way Daedrich did. His pettiness was almost amusing. Savien felt a momentary twinge of guilt for even engaging the man in conflict. He should know better.

_'One who argues has lost the argument.'_

Ingrald's jaw tensed, but he seemed as eager as Savien to get through it quickly. Savien was useless at drawing, but Ingrald had a graceful hand and they quickly had a good map of Oreszhelae and its surroundings.

The parted without speaking, but Ingrald muttered something as he left. He had no way of knowing that while Savien was useless at drawing, he was quite talented at languages and spoke fluent Tilban..

_"Velde dan Kazar, kuwva."_

Ingrald had just called him Daedrich's whore.

\---

"Men have needs, monk. I'm sure even Avyeni believers understand that. It must get lonely in the temple at night."

Ingrald's smug tone grated on Savien's already strained nerves.

"I'm sure even a soldier can grasp the concept of comport," he snapped before he could gain a little composure himself. It surprised them both, but didn't mollify Savien one bit.

"Ours is not the lifestyle of a temple, no. Perhaps--"

"If your soldiers are so desperate let them bed each other. This is a sacred building, sacred land. You swore to respect our temple. It is _holy ground_."

"As we are the ones safeguarding your sacred temple, it seems wise to keep us content. You want us ready to defend at a moment's notice."

Despite the fact that Savien was speaking directly to Daedrich, Ingrald kept answering. Daedrich's arms were folded across his chest, his head tilted as he watched Savien through the entire discussion.

"I realise you need to stir your men into a bloodlust," he began.

"Bloodlust?" Daedrich laughed. "You have no idea. I am commander here, and if your gates are not open, we bring the flesh trade here. The patrol tent is empty." Daedrich shrugged. "If your monks wish to join in, send them. Most of the men prefer women, but not all of them."

Savien burned with embarrassed rage. "You keep your bloodlusting well away from our temple," he said, turning to leave, but Daedrich grabbed his arm and pulled him back, almost against him.

"You know nothing of my lusts, Savien." His name named incredibly sensual on Daedrich's tongue, his rough voice whispering indecently in his ear. "But you could," he added, and Savien shivered when his tongue licked a wet stripe behind his ear.

Savien's heart raced. Before could respond, Daedrich let him go and stalked off, answering someone's call. He looked around. Ingrald watched him, before shaking his head dismissively and following Daedrich. Few men were about, mostly doing their soldierly things, but one gave him a knowing wink as he walked by.

There is nothing to know, he told himself. Nothing at all.

He stalked away himself, meaning to see Father Lussoye. He needed someone to talk to, someone that would calm him, and certainly not a soldier.

\---

_'Pray for quiescence and the gods send chaos; fortitude is your blessing.'_

It was something they learned at a young age. In fact, it was the second verse that all believers were taught, whether they joined the temple or not. Whether they devoted their life to the gods or not.

The first verse they learned: _'The gods grant serenity.'_

"Surae, the General is expecting me. Go tell him that a Brother has died and I must assist Father in final prayers."

Surae nodded, but didn't leave. Savien waved him away. "Go, then, quickly."

Savien was not a monk, but a temple assistant, and as such, had nothing to do with the prayers themselves. Savien was Father Lussoye's right hand--handling the affairs that didn't concern the gods, but kept the temple functioning.He was there as an observer, nothing more. The monks stood by as Father Lussoye said the final blessings.

He'd been close to Brother Fenoul, so his presence wasn't simply ceremonial. Many of the younger acolytes were in tears, but Savien felt a sense of pride for having been close to Brother Fenoul. A quiet man, he listened more than he spoke. When he did choose to speak, his words were rich with wisdom and wit.

_'So pass the revered, so they are reborn.'_

Savien joined the monks in the garden for a moment of silence. He was on his way to the chapel when two soldiers stopped him.

"The General requests your presence."

"I have prayers in the chapel. I sent him word."

The two soldiers exchanged a glance before the one who spoke shrugged. "We were told to find present you immediately." He almost sounded apologetic.

\---

"I warned you, Savien."

He'd heard Daedrich enter--the sound of his breath and rhythm of his gait were unmistakeable. He dreaded the idea that the familiarity held meaning, but knew he couldn't deny it.

Savien kept still at Daedrich's approach. It hurt to move and he didn't want to give Daedrich the satisfaction of hearing his pain expressed any more than he already had.

Daedrich came around the mattress, leaning against the wall. He flung the light blanket off and looked at Savien's back.

"He went easy on you. Does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts! Is this how you earn respect?" It was hard to express rage while whispering. Any movement triggered pain and at this point Savien was afraid to move.

Daedrich smiled faintly, his gaze still on Savien's back. "I whip far less than my uncle ever did. Disobedience doesn't win wars and I don't often have to punish for dereliction of duty. Their will must be as focused as mine. My men follow their orders."

"I had orders of my own."

Daedrich dropped the blanket, letting it fall back over Savien's legs, but leaving his back exposed to the chill air. He sat on the mattress, his knee against Savien's hip.

When he spoke, his voice was low and precise, as if he were containing anger. "Your temple is in a very precarious location, monk. We welcome your resources, but you need us, whereas we own you. Without us, the Korvesek army will take this temple. They are known for... creative ways of punishing believers. When they come, you'll wish for a simple flogging."

He leaned forward, finger tracing the thin welts of pain. Savien flinched, but the touch was gentle. Explorative.

"What do the Korvesek do that others don't?"

Daedrich shook his head. "I'm no believer, Savien but I respect it. I do not destroy places of worship and I do not kill innocent bystanders. The Korvesek destroy belief for sport, tearing it apart as methodically as they do a temple. It's a cruel desecration. Believers are mice and they are tigers. Suffice to say it is important you obey me and important that your temple provide us shelter. Weren't you given a balm for this?"

Savien turned and reached for the small jar of balm the medic had give him, but Daedrich leaned over him and took it first. His body heat warmed Savien's back as he reached for the balm. It felt incredibly good. Savien sighed and relaxed into a comfortable position.

Daedrich shifted himself closer and began rubbing the balm across his back. It was cool and smelled of mint and sweet geranium. He relaxed under Daedrich's touch.

"You passed out before receiving all your lashes, but the men were impressed with how well you took it, no begging and not a word of complaint."

Savien couldn't think of anything to say, and closed his eyes instead, yielding to the gentle pressure and soothing balm.

He remembered the heart pounding fear he'd felt when Daedrich announced his punishment. He'd had no time to explain before two soldiers took him by his arms and dragged him out of the tent. They'd begun tying him to a frame. Daedrich finally came around, standing in front of him.

"I explained the rules to you."

"A brother was dying--"

Daedrich shook his head. "There are no excuses, Savien."

He heard a tearing noise and realised his tunic was being ripped off his back. Someone pushed his hair over his shoulder. The summer night air was warm on his back. A thin whistling sound was his only warning before a searing stripe of bright pain lashed him.

Savien gasped, arching against the pain, hands clenching in an attempt to pull his arms down. The pain was simply unreal.

Daedrich watched closely, their gazes locked. Savien wanted to cry out, but he refused to give Daedrich the satisfaction.

Until the next lash hit, that was. He jerked, a muffled cry escaping his mouth. He took a few short gasping breaths, trembling. He bit his tongue as the next lashes came. Three, four, five more. He knew he cried out, but was by then beyond caring. He felt dizzy and tried to relax and hang from the frame, but it was impossible. Each lash made him jerk to attention. His back was warm, nearly numb before being shocked into burning sensation as lash after lash struck.

Daedrich's gaze upon him was intent, almost sensual.

Savien blinked and everything went black against another lash.

"Savien?"

Savien opened his eyes to find Daedrich's face inches from his. He blinked. "Was I asleep?"

"You were begging."

"I was dreaming of you whipping me." Savien shifted and tried to pull away. Or sit up. Anything to get away from Daedrich.

Daedrich reached out, his hand on Savien's shoulder blade. Savien twitched, though he tried not to, but Daedrich didn't move.

"When the war is over, you may return the whipping. My punishment for whipping a man of god."

Savien frowned at him for a moment, and then nodded. "I shall hold you to that."

Daedrich raised his hand to Savien's face. His hand was warm and calloused.

"What are y--"

He leaned down and kissed Savien. His lips were soft but the short beard covering his chin scratched. Without thinking, Savien opened his mouth, gasping as Daedrich's tongue pushed into his mouth. He could feel Daedrich's teeth against his lips, and moaned when Daedrich bit at his bottom lip.

Savien was not well versed in the art of lovemaking--or what passed for art in the brothels--but it was obvious that Daedrich was. His other arm slid under Savien's neck and the hand on Savien's face moved to his shoulder. Daedrich was lifting Savien and pushing him to his side before Savien even realised it and he was half on his back before the sting of pain registered.

Savien pushed against Daedrich's chest. The more he struggled the more the stripes on his back burned, and the more Daedrich explored. His touch was electric, but it couldn't compete with the pain of his back.

"General--Daedrich, please--"

Daedrich turned his attentions from Savien's neck and looked at him, his mouth open, lips wet.

"My back," Savien whispered.

At this point he was flat on his back and Daedrich half atop him. He stared at Savien for a moment and leaned down to kiss him, a thorough kiss that left Savien breathless.

_This is--he shouldn't--_

Savien was almost dizzy with conflicting thoughts. Daedrich looked at him and kissed him again, his hands cradling Savien's face tightly.

When Savien opened his eyes Daedrich was sitting up looking down at him with a perplexed expression. He shook his head and looked away.

"How long will it--hurt?" Savien held himself tensely trying not to relax against the mattress fearing another round of pain.

"Come, roll over." Daedrich tugged at Savien's elbow and helped him roll back over onto his stomach. "Your medic should have given you something to alleviate the pain as well."

"A tea. It didn't help. You realise you've lost my assistance until I'm healed."

Daedrich smiled at him. "The lesson was necessary. Things are going smoothly so you've plenty of time to recover." Daedrich rose and adjusted his tunic. He lifted his cape from Savien's chair and arranged it over his shoulders. "In the meantime, you can tell me about the temple. If we annex your lands, it will be helpful to know what we've won. We can discuss it over breakfast."

Daedrich hesitated by the door. "We will make a movement against Kor soon. I don't know how long it will last. Doubtless there will be wounded and prisoners on return. We'll need an area for them. While you recover, you can contemplate those needs."

Savien nodded, suddenly stricken. After three weeks being at the man's side for what seemed like every moment of the day, it felt odd to know they would be parted. And if the Korvesek defeated his triumph, he'd never see Daedrich again

"I shall. And, it's early, but I wish you a resounding victory."

"If they return instead of us, flee." At that simple advice, Daedrich left.

Savien touched his mouth. His lip was swollen on the side where Daedrich had bitten. He poked at the tender sore already forming.

\---

A soft knock took Savien's attention. He'd been staring at the wall, thinking of the kiss he'd shared with Daedrich. He turned to see Father Lussoye smiling in the doorway.

"Father! I'm honoured by your visit." Savien struggled to sit up, but Father Lussoye held his hands up.

"No, no, Savien. Stay there. I apologise for your suffering, my son." Lussoye pulled the desk chair close and sat down, reaching out once to pat Savien's head.

"It was my own fault, I suppose."

Lussoye looked at him for a moment, tilting his head to one side. "Was it? You weren't manipulated? Oh my child, if that's what it takes."

"What it takes for what?"

Lussoye just smiled. "They will be fighting soon."

At Savien's nod, Lussoye leaned in. "Your General is correct about the Korvesek, Savien. They have no regard for our faith, even less than they afford others. We anger them in our devotion. Should they come here, run. Don't risk your life to suffer under their hands. A young man like you... would not fare well."

"What do you mean, like me?" Savien frowned at Lussoye.

Lussoye sighed. "You're sheltered here, Savien. You've a wealth of knowledge of our world, but little idea about the terrible truths of it. I would protect all the believers here, but I will not sacrifice any of you. We have chosen our side and must stand by it. All I ask is that you do not forget your faith."

Lussoye wasn't even looking at him as he spoke. His gaze was distant.

Father Lussoye had been a true father to him not just in spiritual matters, but practical matters as well. His parents had died in war. His father, a soldier fighting it; his mother, an innocent bystander in a village razed to the ground. Lussoye took him in, gave him purpose, and most importantly, saved Savien from ending up in a Tilban brothel.

Was that what he meant? That Savien was too innocent?

"The gods are with me always, Father. A constant reminder and a comfort as well."

Lussoye looked at him and smiled. It wasn't a real smile. It looked like it: Father's lips curved, his cheeks rounded, and his eyes squinted gently. It was almost enough to fake a genuine smile, but not to Savien.

"Rest, Savien. Your General is coming. Guide him well."

With that cryptic statement, Lussoye rose, pushing the chair back and leaving before Savien could gather his thoughts enough to speak.

A medic had brought him a stronger tea laced with a strong spirit--at Daedrich's request Savien suspected--and it made him sleepy. Perhaps that caused the slowness in his thought and his inability to question Lussoye.

What does he mean 'my General?' And 'guide him well?' The man was the General of the Tilban forces. What guidance did he need from an _innocent_ temple boy? Savien was the one who would learn from the General, he was certain.

He drank his tea, and settled back in bed, worrying the spot on his lip. They were moving out tomorrow. Where would he run if the Korvesek returned in their stead? He fell asleep contemplating his escape.

\---

"Savien, wake up! Wake up, they're coming back, we have to wake the medics, didn't you hear the bell?"

Savien opened his eyes to find Surae pulling his blankets away and shaking his arm. "What are you doing?" he mumbled. His lips felt dry.

"Are you drinking that tea?" Surae asked in a scandalised whisper. "That's for pain, what is wrong with you?"

"My back hurt, you hush your mouth." Savien sat up and stretched gingerly. His back was healing nicely, but was itchy. And last night he'd felt melancholy and seemed to hurt all over. Not an ailment of any physical sort, but a discomfort that seemed to emanate from deep in his bones. He didn't want to think about its cause.

"What were you yelling about?"

"The army, they're back. The lieutenant tore in here an hour ago demanding a medic. I roused Denif and she's tending the worst, but you can't sleep anymore, we need you. I don't want the General to whip you again."

Savien's heart picked up at the thought of Daedrich. It had been weeks and though no word had been promised, he'd hoped to hear from Daedrich, or one of his commanders. Even Ingrald would be welcome if had news, though Savien doubted he'd want to share it.

He didn't like the feeling of sudden excitement, but he couldn't deny he felt it.

Surae talked him into joining the festive dinner after all the wounded men were attended to. Few were life threatening. Thankfully the Kor had been obviously outnumbered and most seemed unwilling to approach, let alone engage the Tilban warriors. They'd probably redouble their efforts now, but this wasn't the time to dwell on what was coming.

The Kor were determined, but they weren't stupid. When it was just the simple Avyeni that they were attacking, the Kor were powerful aggressors, unlikely to encounter much resistance. But the Tilban forces were well known and they'd already fought the Kor in dozens of wars over the centuries. That they picked easier prey was because that was all they were able to win against.

Once, over the course of the dinner, did Daedrich meet his gaze. He tilted his head back with a smile and raised a mug in Savien's direction. Savien nodded politely, lifted his own mug, and went back to talking to the medics he'd been working with. The soldiers were surprisingly well behaved with the medics and monks.

The Tilban halls of worship were well known for their sacred prostitutes. Most of their festivals focused on sex and its role in the intricate balance of life and death. The Tilban faith put sexual release on par with prayer.

Tonight, no one seemed inclined to either. Knowing that the Kor now knew the Tilban king was protecting them was cause for celebration, though it was also a guarantee that more fighting was to come. The forces remaining in Oreszhelae were probably celebrating as well, though Savien thought wryly, they were probably taking full advantage of the nearby brothel-town.

As for himself, he extricated himself for the evening, and decided to join a few monks for moonrise prayers. Once they left, he'd stay, alone, and offer his prayers.

Since the arrival of soldiers he hadn't had much time alone to devote to pray, and tonight, he felt he needed it.

\---

Savien left the chapel feeling calmer than he had since the Tilban army had shown up. Bathing in his newly acquired calm, he planned to have a quiet dinner alone in his room, and then to meditate by the light of the waning moon. He'd not quite appreciated the serenity of the temple until that peace and quiet had been shattered.

Well, that's not quite true, he thought, cautioning himself against exaggeration. He always appreciated the solace of the temple. During festivals when village people came to the temple , it was full and vibrant, bustling like a small city. He always relished returning to the solemn quiet of the temple. So he did appreciate it.

But the army had certainly rattled his world. The General--Daedrich--had rattled his world.

"You were praying?"

The voice at his side was quiet, but startling nonetheless. Savien took a deep breath after taking a quick step back. This was the shattering of his peace. He turned to find Daedrich sitting on a bench in one of the niches that preceded entrance to the chapel. He appeared to be contemplating the painting across from him, one that depicted god taking the form of the three angels.

"I was. Do your people not pray?"

Daedrich nodded. "Sunrise, sunpeak, and sunset." He turned to look at Savien. "We are a pragmatic people. We like order. We have a time for praying, eating, drinking, sex, and war."

Savien tried to smile. Scheduling war like prayer seemed somewhat blasphemous. "So you pray at war's end?"

Daedrich looked confused and then seemed to realise what Savien was pointing out. "Spoken like a man of god. But no, we celebrate at war's end." He watched as Savien nodded politely. "Is the chapel painted like the rest of your temple?"

"Yes. The chapel is the oldest building here, so its paintings are the oldest. They are a very different style. Would you like to see them?"

His gaze slide away and Savien was worried he'd given some offence, but Daedrich stood. "I would. Is anyone else in there?"

"No. Though our prayers are not scheduled, as such, I often take my prayers late, especially after full moon." He shrugged self consciously. "I like to pray alone sometimes."

Daedrich searched his face and then reached out, his hand resting on Savien's neck as he held his hand out in front of them. "Lead me."

Biting his lip, Savien walked the short distance to the chapel and pushed open one of the heavy doors. The candles he'd lit earlier were still burning, but most of the room was lit by the opening in the ceiling that let in the full moon's brilliant light. Carefully placed mirrors multiplied the light bathing the small room in hazy moonlight.

Savien made his way to the carved stone that stood at the head of the room.

"This standing stone word was the first one found by the first Avyeni tribes that settled here," Savien told him. He let his hand touch the large white carved piece of marble. "They carved it with their language to let others know it was our land. This was even before Tilba had been united."

Daedrich joined him looking carefully around the room. "Can you read it?"

Savien shook his head. "I only know a little of the old language. It is so different from what we speak now."

"Say something in your language."

"In Avyellin?" Daedrich nodded and Savien was surprised. Few Avyeni even cared about hearing the old language.

"Um. How about, ah, _Astraya savie kosimé saviehelae_. It's kind of a play on words, but it means 'Seven stars grace Saviehelae,' which was--" Savien's voice caught. "It was one of the older villages. It was destroyed by the Kor a long time ago."

"Say it again?" Daedrich was watching him closely and Savien felt himself unable to look away or refuse.

" _Astraya savie kosimé saviehelae._ "

"It sounds like your name."

Savien smiled and nodded. "I was named after Saviehelae. It means 'seven leaves' and--"

"Ah. Seven stars over seven leaves."

"Yes. Most Tilban aren't interested in our languages or our study of them." That Daedrich even caught the sound of his name in the phrase was surprising enough. He'd heard of Tilban soldiers living in villages and after twenty years and an Avyeni wife they could barely manage a simple greeting.

"My tutor was Avyeni. There is a school of languages in the capital, run by your monks."

"Yes, Father Lussoye wanted me to go and study. I never--well, I have access to any language I wish here. I'm not very good with the old ones anyway. My mother was--she spoke nearly thirteen languages. Sometimes it pains me to..." Savien let his voice fade away. "This isn't the place for such idle talk, General. I apologise for rambling. Did you need me?"

Daedrich had been looking at the carved stone while Savien spoke, but at the question he met Savien's gaze.

"I do," he said.

Savien felt an odd prickling at the back of his neck and wanted to shiver. Daedrich's gaze was intense.

"Did you want to pray?"

Daedrich tilted his head and smiled at him. "Yes, I would like to pray."

"Can I--"

Daedrich moved forward and before Savien could move, Daedrich's arms were around him, and he was opening his mouth to Daedrich's kiss

Daedrich's kiss was intense, almost aggressive, but not unwelcome. Savien held on tight, wanting to speak, but unable, and even if he could, he didn't know what he'd say. Small sounds emanated from him, and it seemed only to spur Daedrich's touch. He ran his hands through Savien's hair and held his head tightly as they kissed.

Finally, Daedrich pulled away. They were both breathless.

"You see your standing stone?" Savien looked at the carved stone, confused, and nodded. "We have them. All Tilban temples do. Do you know what they are?"

"They're standing stones."

"They are phallic symbols. The cock of the earth, straining upwards." Daedrich's hand stroked upwards on the stone, his fingers stretched wide.

Savien blanched. "What?"

"In our mythology, the standing stones represent the earth god's phallus. Mother Sky wets him, and brings forth life. Our standing stones are not covered in carvings. Most of them are ringed with smaller pieces. Imitations of Father Earth. And ritually, adherents let the earth god have them."

Savien felt hot and realised he was far too close to Daedrich. He tried to step back but Daedrich angled himself so that he only stepped back against him. His shoulder and leg were solid against Savien's back.

"I don't--"

"On their hands and knees," Daedrich whispered, "young virgins, men and women both, riding the cocks of god, working themselves into a frenzy, as believers surround them. Sometimes we touch them. Help them, for until they reach release, the ceremony is incomplete. Can you imagine it?"

Savien shook his head, but he could. At each word it was a picture created in his mind. Daedrich was closer and the room seemed warmer. He swallowed once, his throat so dry it hurt.

"Their cries, the heat, the smell of release." Daedrich's hand touched his hip and Savien jerked, a sharp gasp making its way from his dry throat. Daedrich's hand moved, sliding across and down his belly until his hot hand was right on Savien's cock. He rubbed gently.

"Can you imagine, on your hands and knees, right here? Begging, praying, hands, mouths on you, on your cock, all straining for your release?"

Savien tried shaking his head again but he could barely move he held himself so tightly. His breath was jagged and hot and somehow, somehow Daedrich was behind him, his body pressed hot against Savien's, arm around his waist and hand rubbing, pressing against Savien's cock, and god, but he was hard. Daedrich's hand grasped his cock through the pants he wore and grasped, as best he could, sliding its length.

Daedrich voice was hot in Savien's ear and as he spoke, his tongue tickled Savien's ear.

"See the gouges in the top of the stone? Put your hands there."

Savien did as he asked, not even stopping to think why he would do such a thing. The stone was well over seven feet tall, but there were two gouges, almost identical, on each side. He'd assumed it was part of the making on the stone, but his arms and hands fit perfectly against the cool marble. He had to stretch, just a bit, but it wasn't uncomfortable, save for Daedrich behind him.

And that wasn't exactly uncomfortable. He was simply too aware of it. He closed his eyes as Daedrich's hands moved back to his waist. Deftly, Daedrich untied the drawstring and eased his cock out.

He needed to speak, to say something, but he absolutely couldn't trust his mouth. Because it was on the tip of his tongue to beg Daedrich. He bit his lip before 'please' could slip out. He didn't even know what he wanted to beg for.

Daedrich moved and Savien opened his eyes. He looked down just in time to see Daedrich kneeling and crawling in front of the stone at Savien's feet.

"What are y--ahh!" He broke off as Daedrich leaned forward and took the head of his cock right into his mouth and sucked hard before pulling off slowly with a wet smacking sound.

Before Savien could do anything else, Daedrich had leaned forward again, tugging Savien by the hip. One hand grasped his cock, the other his balls. And then his hot, wet mouth descended on Savien's cock. His eyes fluttered shut and he couldn't think much beyond that.

Savien wasn't a virgin. No doubt Daedrich thought he had a truly innocent monk in his hands, but the truth was he might have been so, simply by lack of practise. He'd had sex exactly twice in his twenty-four years. Once with a woman and once with a man. He had no real preference until now.

Daedrich's tongue circled, licked, and tasted every bit of his cock and balls and still he wanted more. The hand on his hip seemed to be encouraging him to move and so he did. Daedrich opened his mouth wide and let Savien push into him again and again.

And then Daedrich's hands held on to his hips tight and he sucked, his head pulling back and pushing forward, the sounds of his mouth obscene in the temple.

Oh, god, the temple--

His balls were in Daedrich's palm, his fingers pressing against the crease behind them, teasing at his hole. His body jerked again as a fingertip pressed inside. Daedrich slid his mouth back until he held only the cockhead in his mouth and he sucked, wrapping his fingers around the length of Savien's cock and jerking quickly.

His finger pushed inside and Savien felt his entire body tense, tight as a bow and then he was a shot of release, his body trembling with what felt like a flood of powerful wine. He must have cried out, or perhaps Daedrich did; Savien's fingers gripped his dark curls tightly. He jerked into Daedrich's mouth, emptying every drop of come he had down Daedrich's throat, desperate to give all he had.

Savien's body was alight. It felt as if his veins were lit with fire and rushing with wine, burning and intoxicating. He gasped for air and his body stilled, one arm against the standing stone as he sagged against it and Daedrich.

Daedrich, the General of the Tilban army, on his knees before Savien, his mouth red and shining. He grinned and pulled at Savien until he sank, straddling Daedrich.

They kissed, a bittersweet, hot kiss, hands buried in each other's hair. Daedrich's arm went around Savien and crushed him close. He could feel Daedrich's hard cock beneath him and he wanted nothing more than to take Daedrich in his mouth and taste him, but he wasn't sure he could keep himself upright. He was coated in lassitude, drugged with pleasure. And he still had to get dressed, and get to his room.

"That is how the Tilban pray."

Savien took a breath, meaning to speak, but had absolutely nothing to say. He swallowed trying to wet his dry throat.

"It's--engaging," he finally managed. He straightened and tried to tie his trousers. He could feel Daedrich's breath, but couldn't bear to look up again.

Daedrich solved the problem by grasping Savien's face and kissing him.

"You are very suited for Tilban worship, Savien."

\---

A week passed before he saw Daedrich alone again. Daedrich had sent word back to the King and was talking with Avyeni leaders to plan the various political issues and begin setting up local Tilban forces. He was busy now with issues that didn't concern Savien or the temple. Finally, the issue of the wounded came up and Savien was able to see him. Their first meeting alone and he could barely look him in the eye as they talked. For once he wished for Ingrald's interference, but he was desperate to know--what?

_What do I want from him?_

He was on the verge of asking Daedrich what it was _he_ wanted, but after conferring with the medic on the state of the wounded, Daedrich turned and left. Savien stood in the middle of the hall, mouth open, staring through the doorway.

"Are you well, Savien? Did you need something?" Surae's voice cut through his daze.

"No."

"You look funny."

Savien turned to look at Surae. "Did he--never mind." He shook his head. "You've been working hard, do you like it here?" He knew Surae was no more monk material than he had been, but Surae, even this young, was a hard worker. Perhaps he'd make a good medic.

Surae nodded, then bit his lip and looked around. He leaned in. "That General. Does he... he likes you doesn't he?"

Savien nearly jumped in surprise. "What? What makes you say that?"

Surae shrugged, and, speaking in the thoughtless manner of the very young and very innocent, said "He looks at you all the time."

Savien stared helplessly. After a few starts, he finally managed a weak, "I don't know, Surae. I'm sure it isn't that. Let's help them," he said, nodding toward the medics.

At Surae's nod, Savien slung his arm around Surae's shoulders and they went to clean themselves. "Will you be sad when he leaves? I mean you like him too?"

"You shouldn't... what do you mean? They will leave eventually."

Surae shook his head. "They are leaving in two days, wait, that was yesterday. So, one day. Tomorrow? He said the city would give them better... field advantage? Something like that. I think..." Surae glimpsed around again and leaned toward Savien. "I think the soldiers want to be closer to the brothels. I heard one say... Well, he said he was tired of the trek and wanted something in his own pallet."

There was nothing he could reasonably say to that. He couldn't even look at Surae. The shame burned his cheeks. Thought it wasn't shame over what he did; the perception of the General's men was telling, however.

"Do you know what the Tilban do in their temples?"

This time Savien looked up. "Nothing you need to know about." His voice was sharper than he meant it to be. Surae's eyes rounded.

"You do know. Oh Savien, promise me you'll tell me? I'll have sixteen years at harvest. I don't want the girls to laugh at me because I don't know how to give them a proper kiss."

At that Savien smiled. "No one will be laughing at you, I promise." Surae was already handsome at his age. The years would no doubt improve him. Savien just hoped life and its experiences didn't disillusion the young man, or completely kill his charm and sense of wonder.

"Are you going to see him before he goes?"

Savien nodded absently, still pondering why they were leaving. The small mission that went out to scout and infiltrate Kor borders had barely returned. Surely they weren't ready to launch an attack this soon?

"I knew it."

"When did you say they were leaving?" They spoke at the same time, but Savien heard the question and was rather certain he knew what Surae meant. "You knew what?

Surae smiled. "You like him."

He sighed and shook his head. "You go back to work. I'm going to see the General." He left the grinning boy behind and took off, not really certain what he was doing.

\---

Savien walked into Daedrich's tent before the attendants outside even stood up. Daedrich was sitting at his desk, going over a parchment with another officer. The man looked at his entrance and turned to Daedrich questioningly.

"Give us a moment, Ingrald."

Savien's gaze didn't move from Daedrich's, so he didn't know what kind of look Ingrald gave him, but he didn't care. He heard a sigh and finally, after a few minutes of silence, Daedrich stood and walked slowly toward Savien.

"You're leaving?" Savien bit his lip. The question made him realise how foolish his statement had sounded.

Daedrich gave a faint nod. "We're moving to the city. The vantage isn't as good, but we'll have better resources against Kor and the ability to move quickly on them. And I need to confer with your leaders. We'll leave a good number of soldiers here."

"And your men will have true brothels to visit, not monks to harass."

Daedrich made a face, looking only slightly guilty. "The temptations will not be as dangerous," he acceded.

"I'm pleased I could help with that decision." Savien looked away, feeling foolish. He should have stayed in his room, alone, but with his dignity.

A fingertip on his jaw, gently guided his face back toward Daedrich. His expression was tender, almost smiling. He didn't seem to be mocking, but Savien had no way to be sure of that.

His eyes searched Savien's before dropping. He spoke as if Savien hadn't spoken. "A small guard will remain here, still outside the gates. It will be good for the villages nearby, and will protect the area. Should the Kor return, your temple will be protected. And if stronger force is needed, they will sound the alarm and we will come."

Savien nodded. It was a kind thing the General was doing, making it seem as though Savien's concerns were for the villages, for the temple, and for the people.

Like he wasn't here for himself. Like he didn't feel as though he'd whored himself out for his temple.

"On behalf of Father Lussoye, I thank you and the King. We should..." Savien faltered. He had no idea what to offer. "Should there be anything we can do for the King, it would please us to be able to serve."

Savien took a deep breath, and bowed deeply. Then he turned before he could look at Daedrich, and tried to leave the tent with whatever bit of dignity he had left.

"Savien."

He stopped, heavy curtain in hand.

"I must return to my home."

"Of course." And he should. Savien couldn't--shouldn't--imagine otherwise. The idea of Daedrich--the Tilban General living in Avyeni lands suddenly seemed quite ludicrous. "Thank you again, General."

"Savien, turn around."

After a deep breath, Savien did just that. When he looked up, Daedrich was smiling.

"You should do as your Father wishes and come to the capital. You can come with us." Daedrich reached out and brushed his knuckles across Savien's cheek.

Savien shook his head.

"Consider it an invitation on my behalf as--"

"I should go, General. Thank you and--" Savien broke off, shaking his head. He didn't know what to say. "Thank you."

Daedrich leaned forward and kissed him. Savien gripped the tent's curtain at the same time Daedrich grabbed him. The kiss turned from gentle to desperate and Savien felt Daedrich reaching to pull the curtain back in place. He must have got the opening covered before he pulled Savien back, moving them away from the opening and pulling Savien close.

"You shouldn't be here, monk," he muttered.

Savien pushed away at the words.

"I'm not a monk," he said. "You didn't know that, did you? You liked the idea of taking advantage of an innocent monk though, didn't you? And whipping me as a prelude to that indulgence? You should have whipped me yourself." He stepped away from Daedrich, but leaned forward to whisper. "I'm marked, but not by your hand."

Daedrich made a face, his jaw tensing before he spoke. "Did you come for more? That's an odd habit, monk or not."

"There is a group in the isles that suffer whippings as a matter of course. Penance to their god for existing."

"You want penance?"

"No, General, I thought to--"

Daedrich moved closer, grabbing Savien's shoulder. "You thought we would live happily ever after, playing house here in your temple? Are you to be my ladyship?"

Savien glared, trying to pull free. "Don't be foolish! And don't insult me. I thought to be more than a hole in a brothel wall to you."

Daedrich shifted Savien around while he spoke, until they were facing. "So I can't celebrate with you upon our triumphant return?"

He couldn't answer that. Not without lying--either to Daedrich or to himself.

Daedrich gripped his arms suddenly and Savien looked up, startled. Daedrich's hands moved to his face and he leaned their heads together.

"At Kor's defeat, I will come back."

"Your King will want his prized General." Daedrich's fingers drifted over his neck and moved slowly down his shoulders and arms. As he spoke, his lips moved over Savien's cheeks, chin, and rested at the corner of his mouth.

"Then come with me."

Savien closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't," he whispered.

"Of course you can, as a representative of the temple, of your people. The King will welcome you." One of Daedrich's hands wrapped around his wrist as the other pulled him close. It was distracting.

"I don't mean I'm not allowed, Gen--Daedrich. I mean, I _can't_. I don't leave the temple."

"Then I'll send for you, have you brought to me in ropes if necessary." Daedrich kissed him in between words, lips on Savien's, then moving around his face, along his jaw, and his neck. Savien shook his head, but couldn't speak.

"I want you Savien. I won't let you go."

He still couldn't speak, but he lifted his head and opened his mouth to Daedrich's kisses. Daedrich's arms tightened around him, nearly lifting him off the ground.

Daedrich pulled his head back, breathing heavily, his arms still wrapped around Savien.

"I have to go."

Savien nodded.

"But I will return."

Savien tilted his head forward and kissed Daedrich. "I'll be waiting."  


**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: A character is whipped, though it isn't particularly graphic.


End file.
